Five Times Wasn't Enough
by moonandwinter
Summary: She smiled kindly at him, even as he held the blade against her neck. He would meet her five more times, and every single one would be a life changing event. Pt 2 of Fate Works in Fives. (Darcy LewisXBucky Barnes)
1. Chapter 1

The first time he came across the girl, James had nearly killed her. His training, while terrible and dark, had prepared him for many things. He had earned the names he'd been given. A ghost. A monster unseen. But apparently, fate hadn't thought to inform Darcy Lewis of this and he was wildly ill-prepared when he encountered her.

That day, the hunger that seemed to never fully be sated had been bad but the whole body fatigue was worse. Even the hair on his head ached dully; a constant reminder of the last few weeks. The fall of SHIELD/HYDRA, the bridge, the man, and the running. All of the running.

He couldn't stop. Weeks without handlers and freeze withdraws tearing his body apart, he knew he'd have to find _him_. And with this plan came an uncomfortable emotion. One that had been violently grated out of him, sliced into pieces and burned. Something dangerous and lethal and sweet.

Something like hope.

Out in to this strange new world where he was no one's asset, James began to remember. His brain sluggishly trying to pull forth long forgotten memories and feelings.

That other man, his old best friend had been the first solid recollection. And then there were clips; images of a world long dead. Music. Friends. Pretty girls dressed up and ready to dance.

That was who he had been. Now he was just a monster looking for… what? Redemption? He didn't know.

Finding Steve Rogers was the only thought he clung to as he moved silently through the layers of thick underbrush. The wooded area in upstate New York had acers of dense forestry, nearly all of it untouched by man. But right at its center, there was a small Stark facility. It'd taken a lot of questionable tactics to get this information and while he didn't regret it, he'd have to be sure the agent who's lose tongue had brought him here had recovered from his massive hangover…

The clearing up ahead was familiar. It'd been several days since he'd managed to locate the facility. This was the first time he'd moved forward, having mapped out where all of the cameras and sensors were. James would be the closest he could get without them knowing, at least until he was sure Steve Rogers would be there. God, he hoped he was there.

He moved low and painfully slow along the freshly fallen leaves, inching his way a little closer in the hopes of seeing how many agents stood guard over the main trail. He would stop once he reached the dirt path a few feet from him, and then he'd-

"Hey there buddy. You Lost?"

A moment of reaction, instinctual violence followed by a soft gasp. For a moment, he was the Soldier again. The cold heartless killer that slit throats silently and vanished without a trace or whisper.

Except he didn't. He wouldn't be that _thing_. The steel of his small knife was pressed gently against tender flesh, and there was a moment of panic that swirled in his gut. There began a ringing in his ears. This he tried to ignore as well, instead focusing on the stranger before him.

God damn it. It was a young woman, no more than 25 years old. Her small hands were up and shaking slightly but her eyes were bright and unafraid. This threw him off, making him pause.

He took in her clothes, the way her thick brown hair was tied up, and her worn shoes. She'd been out for a run. There was an alarm bracelet around one slender wrist, making it clear she belonged to the facility. He was working through this information when she spoke again.

"Seriously? Put the poker away and we can use our big boy words." He was taken aback again. Her voice was strong and fearless, even with his blade pressed against her. The warm color of her eyes swirled with curiosity, pupils dilated with the surge of energy. Perhaps that was what was making her reckless.

He slowly lowered the knife, seeing no threat in the woman. Not yet. Though he knew he should flee now, take what information he had and hightail it before she calls the agents over.

But he didn't.

Because she smiled. It was a genuine grin with the same carelessness that seemed to be her trademark. Kinda reminded him of someone. His heart thundered unusually and he blinked in confusion.

"Cool." The woman spoke softly, her eyes keeping his gaze. They were kind. Deep. Bizarrely non-threatening. All the things he was unaccustomed to. "I'm Darcy Lewis. I work over at the building you were scoping out."

His face tightened into a cold mask of indifference. She worked there, but did she know who he was? And why in God's name did she give him her name? And he didn't doubt for a second that she was telling the truth. For a woman who had ties with Assassins and superheroes, she didn't know the first rule. Don't tell strangers your identity under any circumstance.

There was no sign of a clear motive, neither on her face, nor her body language, though he could tell her body was thrumming with adrenaline. There were so many questions and no answers.

His brain was foggy from fatigue and dulled his reaction time. That's what James told himself later. Right now, he needed to retreat and refocus. He should go… Now.

"It's just me and some suits, so if you were looking for one of the Hero's, you are out of luck." The woman muttered and he knew she was reading his expression. He hoped to hell she didn't see the disappointment that stabbed through him. It was sharp and bitter, making his stomach turn.

The frustration allowed him to move away from her as he stood and turned to flee. He had to get away from the empty hope. This was his last lead. Other than marching into Stark towers, hands up in surrender, he had no way to get to Steve Rogers without a battle. And he knew there would be a battle any other way with all the terrible things he'd done.

He cursed in Russian, following the memorized path when he heard her call out to him. Still it was easy to ignore her. Mostly. He was confused and angry with the strange woman who had no fear of him. Who had smiled at the man who had pressed a knife to the pale flesh of her neck.

But when she called again, her words rang loud and clear, piercing through his anger.

" _Wait guy, I think I know you!"_ His legs stopped before his mind and then her body crashed into his back. He was surprised at how she'd kept up, though not happy with it. A slow assassin was a dead one.

The sun felt too hot, and his body was close to giving up but he clung to her words because they were the ones spoken by the other man. By his friend. The words that had awoken his choppy memory and freed him.

"I don't know how." Darcy breathed airily and he heard the excitement in her voice. His own heart raced and he could feel a terrible mix of hope and fear. "I don't know how, but I _know_ you. Who are you?"

Was this a stalling tactic? Did she already have the Stark Agents surrounding them?

All of his senses said no, but he couldn't be sure. He needed to go. To run. To leave now!

And then she surprised him again, as was beginning to become a pattern.

He could see it in slow motion, though he did nothing to stop it. There was nearly a dozen ways he could have stopped her, and still he just let it happen.

Her hand shot out and grabbed his. There was a look of concern painted clearly on her oval face. James had to hold back a sigh when he felt the heat. The shaking hand that held his radiated warmth and was sinfully soft. His eyes shot to hers because he knew what was to come.

It took only a moment for it to register and he watched the transformation of her features but he'd never quite seen it like this. It was the moment that she realized his appendage was not like hers.

Now both of her terrible and wonderfully warm hands cupped a cold metal one, and he watched in muted fear as she lifted it up to her face for inspection. But there was no disgust nor fear. Fascination and wonder and some other heady thing played across her open face with such vivid detail that he felt swept away by it.

This woman… Darcy Lewis, held the creation of evil men as if she were holding a child. Gentle and calm, her face lit with wondrous curiosity. Her nearness and warmth, both in kindness and touch, had thrown all of his carefully built plans into chaos.

The thud of his heart was so loud he was sure the woman could hear it. It was all made worse by the fact that she was was completely unpredictable. He stood frozen to the ground, holding his breath for whatever she would say next.

It didn't take long, but her words sliced through the spell that had been laid.

"Are you a bad guy?" Her voice was small, a whisper no louder than the rustle of the leaves. Despite this, her stormy blue eyes remained bold behind her black rimmed glasses.

He simply nodded, still not accustomed to using his voice. That and he really didn't want to say aloud the thing he hated to be true.

But then she tilted her head slightly, a few strands of thick brown hair falling from the loose knot atop her head. "Nope." She declared slowly, as if it were a simple fact. "I don't think so." Her reactions to him were giving him whiplash and on top of his exhaustion, he was more than ready to keel over and sleep for a few more years.

As he couldn't figure her out, he'd need to retreat for some much needed time to think. James was resolved to clear his head of this woman. Of Darcy Lewis, as if it was easy. So he slipped his cold hand from hers, watching the disappointment flitter across her gaze. She didn't follow as he slowly wove through the trees, letting the shadows hide him.

And when he put enough distance between them to turn and watch her unseen, he saw she still stood there, a silly grin on her beautiful face.

"Hope to see you again soon!" She called into the trees, making his body tingle with that terrifying and awful emotion.

It was this that echoed through his brain for many days.


	2. Chapter 2

The second time he met the bizarre woman had been _mostly_ coincidental. He had even made it a point that day to _not_ go to the track, instead focusing on another area of the compound as if that would clear his mind of her. Focus on the mission, he repeated to himself. Find Steve Rogers.

The rain fell in sharp bitter sheets, kicking up a fine mist on the lake in which he surveyed. He could see the foggy outline of the one-story facility across the water, noting the row of large windows. Some had curtains while others sat open. It was most likely the sleeping quarters for the small staff that worked within the alarm strewn walls. As far as his intel went, they were mostly scientists and grunts and a handful of black suited Stark agents, none of which had the SHEILD emblem on their uniforms. To him, this was the deciding factor in whether to travel so far from the city to survey of this location.

As the sky rumbled overhead, and as was becoming a frustrating reoccurrence, his thoughts turned to _her_. One of those rooms belonged to Darcy Lewis. The path in which they had met a mere seven days prior had been mostly quiet and unused and would have been a perfect spot for reconnaissance had it not been for the dark haired woman who, every damned day, had come to the track to look for him. Her face was always open and cheerful when beginning the slow jog, but soon she left looking absurdly dejected.

It upset him in incomprehensible ways. It was clear the girl was searching for him, even going so far as to sit beneath the same tree, waiting longer with each passing day. And while he knew he should leave on the grounds that she'd caught him lurking, the fact that she hadn't informed whoever was in charge of his presence made him pause.

However, he remained _only_ because he had a mission that he could not fail, and regardless of her insistence that The Avengers were not in residence, it didn't negate the fact that there still might be a way to find Steve Rogers safely through this specific facility.

He shook his head aggressively, tossing rain from his shaggy brown hair. He needed to concentrate on locating cameras or motion sensors. Not beautiful dark haired women who smiled at villains. His eyes scanned the lake once more, finding three more in-ground alarms. Those were easier to disarm, if his expert assassin training was to be trusted. Could give him a small window to get to those apartments.

A loud gurgle bubbled up from his stomach and made him frown slightly. The meager foodstuffs he had brought with him lasted until three days ago, making his body even weaker. The days were getting shorter and the nights much colder. He didn't know how much longer of the scavenging and foraging was going to last with the final weeks of fall on his heels.

James readjusted against the tree in the futile hope that the noise and pain would cease. The clouds were dissipating, though there was still a slight rainfall as he attempted to distract himself by focusing on the closest open-curtained window.

It was when he readjusted for the second time that he felt the hairs on his neck stand and the still of his heart indicating that someone was watching him.

He looked into the window and saw them.

No… Her. Of course it would be _her_.

Without thought, he darted behind the tree knowing that the damned woman had already seen him. He mumbled a curse and as quickly as his tired mind could, ran through the list of possibilities and escape routes. He had many but… something made him hesitate.

It took only a moment to find the small mirror he had tucked away in his many pockets. He crouched low to the wet earth and used the little compact to look back towards the building.

A sign, written in big bold letters, had been stuck to her window.

 _"Don't leave yet!"_

The girl was out of her mind.

And yet he could not stop the small smile that appeared on his hardened lips. She was a brave one, he'd give her that. Reckless and suspicious. But brave.

He melted back into the dense forest but stayed along the path. There was no logical reason for him to want to encounter her again but he found his veins begin to thrum with a life he hadn't felt just moments ago.

It didn't take long for her to appear, her walk brisk and determined. Her flushed face was scanning the forest with such determination and glee that he almost walked out of the shadows just then but they were a little too close to the cameras and their microphones. So he shadowed her, confused by the little flurries of excitement that danced inside his stomach, but enjoying the sensation over hunger pains.

His distance from her impaired his hearing, though he could make out some frustrated grumblings. And it seemed the further she walked, the more agitated she became. It took only half a mile for her energy to burn out.

The rain had stopped completely by the time the Darcy Lewis sat, a deep frown marring her face. The training Hydra had drilled into him was useful for things other than killing. Scaling heights without a sound, for instance.

The birch tree only a few feet behind her was where he sat watching. He knew he shouldn't reveal himself. All of the programmed instincts told him to retreat or terminate the target. But he did neither. _He_ was his own man. No longer the slave, the assassin, the asset, and while his true name felt heavy and strange on his tongue, he was determined to earn it.

Even if interacting with her was a stupid choice, it was _his_ to make.

"Why are you here?" His voice was rough with disuse but it felt good to use it of his own free will.

There was only the slightest pause where he could nearly feel her body jolt with excitement. "I couldn't tell you. I have no idea." She laughed lightly, keeping still and staring off in front of her.

As far as he could tell, she was telling the truth. James grunted, not knowing what to say to her bizarre response.

"Seriously, I just want to talk. I've been looking for you every day at the track." Her honesty was strange and foreign, nearly as bizarre as the fact that she'd been looking for him. Flutters erupted in his stomach again.

"I know." He muttered, his lips doing that thing once more. A small smile. Familiar and yet not.

"Wait, you know?" She gasped, finally turning to look for him. Her mouth popped open in piqued astonishment. "And you didn't say anything?"

Orange and red leaves fell with him as he jumped down from his perch, loving the little squeak she let out in surprise. James still wasn't sure why he threw out all caution with her, but he decided not to examine that right now.

She looked like she was about to let him know exactly what she thought of it, when his stomach interrupted, gurgling louder than ever before. He looked down, hating his body at that moment. He couldn't remember ever being hungry like this while in the 'care' of Hydra, but he was sure he had been. Just couldn't _remember_ it. His gut was a traitor.

The sound of a zipper drew his attention back to Darcy Lewis. She was rummaging through her small backpack and when she finally pulled out what she'd been looking for, he couldn't help the shock and awe that coursed through him. A gentle hand patted the spot next to her on the fallen tree and while his training told him to not trust her, his body… His heart, knew different.

Besides, she was holding several kinds of food and he was one hell of a hungry man.

Cautiously, he inched towards her, hoping not to scare her with his presence. He knew what he looked like. Unshaved, wild hair. His cybernetic arm was hidden beneath a thick hooded jacket but the fingers still flashed brightly in the sun that shone through the canopy. Darcy simply smiled and handed him the granola bars, packet of chips, and an apple.

Without hesitation he tore into the oat bar first, feeling it fill the gnawing void in his gut. He ate quietly and tried not to look at her but as the moments passed, he found his eyes drawn to her.

It was a picture he'd never likely forget. Her face was turned up towards the sun and its warmth. The lovely blue-green eyes were closed against the bright mid-day light, but her full mouth was curved into a silken smile. He forgot all about food. She was more than beautiful. How she could even relax in his presence was a mystery to him.

One of her eyes peeked open and he tensed, half a granola bar hanging from his mouth.

"Relax guy. I'm not going to hurt you _or_ tell on you."

There was no lie in her words and she spoke as if it were a simple fact. He turned to face the forest, uncomfortable with her calm honesty and open trust.

"I know." He muttered, and indeed James knew that she wasn't going to turn him in. "But why?"

She paused in thought. In this moment the forest, with its towering trees, seemed too close around him; its open space now seemed daunting. The light and sounds were becoming too much.

But then her words drifted softly to him, filled with undeserved warmth. "Trust is weird. Sometimes it's earned. Sometimes it's given." She paused and he held his breath, the loneliness of the forest fading slightly. "And sometimes it's just instinct."

"You shouldn't trust me." The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them and he wished he could take them back. But then she surprised him. Again.

Her laugh echoed throughout the clearing, loud and deep and unafraid. It made his stomach ache in a way hunger could not. His heart thundered and he felt his muscles tense with a new and terrifying sensation.

Not understanding what was happening, he stood quickly and darted a few feet away. He wanted to touch her. To _feel_ her laugh. It was too much. Too new. The sensory overload that accompanied the withdraws of the freeze wasn't new to him, but it was damned inconvenient right then.

"I'm sorry." Darcy gasped in between chuckles. "It's just, you sounded like the big bad wolf, and I'm wearing my red hood, and… and…" She grinned, wiping away tears on her crimson sweater. Her face was flushed pink and she looked away. "I just read this… um, romance book. Werewolves and red hoods. Just thought it was funny."

James didn't know what to think. She was making jokes, laughing, feeding him, being too kind and all he was was a killer who wanted to kiss her stupid. He couldn't. Wouldn't. Didn't even know _how_ if he could.

 _Get it together, jackass_. He cursed himself.

It took only a moment for him to gather his thoughts and he was thankful for the quiet of that moment. Far off but much too close for his liking, he heard the rapid footfalls. Leaves crunching under heavy weight. Someone was coming.

He wasn't ready to leave her, but could not risk getting caught by anyone other than The Captain. Angry with himself for the close call, he took one last look at the bewitching woman and her worried face. She heard the intruder too and he swallowed the lump that stuck in his throat.

"The window you saw me through is my apartment. If you need anything, just go there. No security. I promise!" Darcy Lewis whispered hurriedly, biting her lip as strange emotions swirled through her gaze.

Without a sound, he melted back into the darkness the large canopy afforded him. He was close enough to watch her, but too far to be able to hear.

His hand darted to his sidearm the moment he saw the single suit burst through the underbrush, weapon out and pointed at Darcy.

James was nearly blinded by panic, but it became clear that the girl could handle herself. Darcy's body showed no signs of fear or intimidation. The guard lowered his gun and after a few words awkwardly retreated back towards the facility, leaving James to think about all that had occurred.


	3. Chapter 3

*12-10-15*  
A/n: I updated the last two chapters a lot. I put in quite a bit more info and how Mr. Barnes found his way to the little facility in the woods, plus a bit more internal talk.

Anywho, sorry about the long update time. I'll be better!

The night of their third meeting proved to be colder than any he'd known so far. The chilly autumn day had quickly turned bitter as winter winds blew through the tall trees. He had tried burrowing deeper into the leaf and brush den he'd made, but the temperature was dropping quickly.

He tasted ice in the air and it scared the shit out of him. The panic twisted painfully in his stomach, at war with the gnawing hunger, making him grit his teeth. James tried desperately to cling to his resolve, but weeks of barely eating, scarcely sleeping, and physically exerting himself to find Steve had left him weak and pathetic.

Puffs of white vanished quickly as he exhaled. Whether it was the chill or the fear that made his body quake, he didn't know. Didn't want to think about it. If Peirce could see him now…

The shrill howl of a wolf drifted from some far off place, making him start. If a man like him believed in fate, he'd say it was actively working against him.

But James _did_ have an option. It was a stupid one. Something he wouldn't even consider if he were in his right mind. Probably.

 _Darcy Lewis had offered him refuge._

A second howl joined the first, their sound both eerie and beautiful.

If he went, he'd be risking his life and possibly putting her in enormous danger. He felt the suited agents held no ill-will towards her, but if he was caught in her apartment, there would likely be a scuffle. He knew what could happen to the innocent bystander…

But what choice did he have? James could lay out here and waste away until he was nothing or he could attempt to live.

 _Hell,_ he thought to himself and even in his mind the words slurred slightly _. I could ask her to try and get ahold of Steve for me._

If he was killed or captured before he could talk to his old friend, well… At least he'd have been in the company of a beautiful and brave woman for a short time. The plan had already formed in his head. The last of his energy would be spent disarming the in ground alarms and motion sensors. He'd have to cut the power to the window system.

But it was nearly midnight with no guarantee that she'd be awake or that she'd let him in. The man who'd drunkenly given away the inside info on this location told him the windows only opened from the inside and with an emergency latch. He'd have to convince her to flip it and then there would be an internal alarm…

Nevertheless, he'd already made up his mind.

Long moments passed as the howls trailed off, only to start again, louder than before.

The small burrow he'd made crumbled around him as he stood on shaky feet. Slowly, his mind ran through the tasks before him. Find the lake, disarm the sensors, cut the window alarm.

Time was relative then. With his mind repeating the mantra of his tasks, James moved with quiet surety. The lake, a half mile from his burrow, came into view. _Check_.

The motion sensors in the trees were cut first. _Check_.

Then the in ground alarms. He had to use his enhanced arm to pull the things free. There was no finesse here. _Fucking check._

It was almost without thought, the way he set about the tasks. The memory of learning what the window grid box looked like, was still hidden from him, but he knew the thing when he saw it. Knew too which of the wires to cut. _Almost there…_

These skills had ensured the death of many Hydra's enemies. No one could have predicted that he'd be using them to get into a woman's apartment. Well, maybe Steve would have.

The thought made his lips twitch.

He found her window and by this time he was so tired he could only crouch before it. There had been a large possibility that she'd be asleep and by the darkness inside the small room, he knew he had failed.

James fell back onto the hard earth, cursing the sickly sweet hope that he had clung too. As if he was bound for anything more than death. He sat for several minutes, hearing far-off shouting. They had noticed the dead motion sensors. He sighed darkly.

A yellow glow flickered on in the room before him and there, wrapped in what looked like an impressively large blanket, was his girl… Er Darcy Lewis.

He was so relieved to see her strutting around her living room, her free hand waving about as the other held a phone to her ear, that he could not move. The soft light illuminated her, casting deep shadows around the living space. He could see her blush with a grin on those perfect lips and he felt the distinct desire to put a similar look upon her face.

This thought, so out of place, shook him from his state of awe. A frown marred his brows, thinking about the best to get her attention. Time was of the essence, especially since he heard agents now. Distant, most likely gathering for a search party.

The dark haired beauty set her phone down and moved out of his line of vision. James did the only thing he could think of, or had the energy to do. He threw a small rock at the solid glass pane.

It bounced off, barely making a sound. He held his breath, willing her to hear it and come to the window. After several frustratingly long seconds, he threw another rock with his enhanced arm. This time it was louder, though not by much.

And the she was there, hidden in the shadows. Her face looked worried for all of two seconds until she realized it was him. While his heart did a weird thundering at the look of happy excitement upon her face, he knew that eventually she was going to discover who he really was.

Pushing the depressing thought aside, James watched her press a small hand against the window. She looked at him with large pleading eyes.

A dog barked in the distance, much closer than he'd hoped for. A mile, maybe less.

Her hands traced the edges of the glass as if looking for a way to open it. That, at least, answered his question of whether or not she'd want him there.

A shivering hand pointed to the wall beside her, hoping there was in fact a small latch box. If that agent he'd gotten hammered had lied or even simply didn't know…

Her face beamed as she hoped a little in excitement. The blanket had to be readjusted, though even with the dire situation, James could honestly say he didn't mind. At all.

The window made a popping sound as it swung open vertically. Scents of lavender and coffee wafted towards him with a gust of warm air and he breathed it in deeply. That emotion he hated teased him now but this time he didn't fight it.

Hope came in the form of Darcy Lewis.

"Come on!" She whispered hurriedly when he hadn't moved. Steeling himself for one last push of energy, he stumbled but managed to stand. The bitter wind brought with it the sounds of nearing agents.

Darcy looked as if she were going to climb through the damned window to help him, but he held up a hand to stop her. He'd be one hell of a sorry excuse if he couldn't even do this.

Turns out, he was in pretty rough shape. The steel frame was about waist high and he nearly toppled through. Her bare arms were the only thing that kept him hitting the floor in a dirty painful mess. The room began to spin and relief and panic fought inside of him.

Warm, strong arms guided him to an over large couch and the both fell onto it with an audible grunt. His heart thundered and he tried to clear his mind. He was so close to just passing out right there… but there was still something…

"Soooo." Her voice hummed deeply, sounding both happy and confused.

Finally the gears started to move, albeit sluggishly, inside his mind.

"We have to close that." He grunted numbly. "And the Agents will be coming." Because he realized then that the internal alarms were likely going off. Fate was fucking with him now. He'd been so close…

"What?" her voice broke with surprise but she grabbed handfuls of the thick blanket and shimmed to the open window anyway. In the soft glow of the lamp light, James could see the goosebumps all across her skin and he wished he could cover her up in something warm.

The large glass pane snapped quietly back into place and she turned to him, eyes wide with panic, lip between her teeth. He hadn't meant to scare her; only wanted to warn her before they came crashing in to do whatever it was to him.

James should have known better because her panic turned to fierce thoughtfulness. Long fingers went to her lips as she paced for a moment, mumbling quietly.

"Under the bed, yea right. Shower, no… Closet?"

They heard it at the same time. Footsteps, heavy and booted down the end of the hallway.

He turned to face her, an apology on his lips but she grabbed his hand and yanked him to the floor. His brows scrunched for only a second before he realized what it was she wanted of him.

And just like that, a good bit of his lost energy came rushing back.

Because right as the handle of her door began to wiggle, James was positioning himself inside the cocoon of blankets, and wove himself around her naked legs. His cheek brushed one of her pale thighs and he had to bite back his smile at her sharp inhale.

Just as he managed to pull his foot into the billowing layers of cotton, the agent's crept in.

Darcy Lewis tensed for a fraction of a second. Then he felt her body relax as she started her performance.

"Um… What's going on guys?"


	4. Chapter 4

_Moscow, Saint Petersburg, Novosibirsk, Yekaterinburg, Nizhny Novgorod_ … James inhaled evenly and tried to slow the pounding of his heart, but the heat of his enclosed haven was mixed with the heady scent of woman…

 _Shit… Samara, Kazan…_

The agents were rummaging through the rooms, and while every sound was muffled, he was keenly aware of one in particular; a man whose obnoxious voice kept making lewd comments towards Darcy.

 _Omsk, Chelyabinsk, Rostov-on-Don, Ufa and Volgograd…_

Steel fingers clenched, nearly demanding he give up the guise and thrash the man. He exhaled quietly, mentally listing cities by population. It was a technique learned somewhere along the line, most likely from the same people who taught him Russian. Among other, more deadly skills.

Outside, he heard a muffled grunt and a sharp reprimand coming from a rough voiced female. He didn't even try to stop the smirk. There were moments of his past self that flitted through him and James was beginning to think being around Darcy Lewis was making it stronger.

 _Exhale slowly._

The enormous dress-like blanket hid him surprisingly well, but he was beginning to have a hard time concentrating on the activity of the agents.

James told himself that it was because he was physically exhausted and terribly starved and it certainly _wasn't_ because he was inches from the black soft cotton that barely covered her rounded bottom. No, he wouldn't even look again. He stared at a small freckle on the back of her calf, reminding himself that their _lives_ were at stake.

 _Moscow, Saint Petersburg, Novosibirsk…_

There was a retreat order and the muted sounds of boots faded. Her body relaxed slightly for a single moment before she shifted weight from one foot to the other, careful not to stumble on him. Someone was standing close to her and James body automatically prepared for battle. God, he hated not being able to see or hear properly.

"We've gotten some strange reports. We want all of the scientists and crew here to be in the know with what dangers could be heading our way." It was the woman in command whose weary voice sounded exhausted, even to his ears.

There was a heavy pause and his stomach tightened painfully. He closed his eyes and grit his teeth.

"But I'm not that important." Came Darcy's confused reply. James blinked in disbelief. She really thought so little of herself? This woman had shown him extreme kindness and concern, so out of place in his world of blood and violence. The damned girl was strong headed and exceedingly stubborn but also incredibly brave. He wished he could tell her then, how important she really was but even if both their lives hadn't depended on him not revealing himself, James was positive that he wouldn't be able to say a damn thing. He'd be as bad as Steve had been.

The fingers that had wished to smash a man's face only minutes ago now sought to comfort Darcy. Slowly and with more gentleness than he'd ever used, cold metal fingers slid across the top of her foot and further until he'd grasped her slim ankle. There was no mistaking the shiver that cascaded down her body, though he wasn't sure if it was from fear or...

"Oh stop that, Darce. Look, just be safe out there." The other woman grunted, obviously thinking this girl was indeed important. "You have more clearance than the others to go in and out. If you see something…"

"If I catch sight of any bad guys and or zombies, I'll call. Trust me." Darcy announced with surprising honesty. The edges of his lips lifted into a small smile at her words. Damn, she really did think too well of him.

He had to tilt his head to listen properly and as the door quietly clicked shut he felt her entire body relax. Neither of them moved right away, each breathing with carefully regulated breaths. James closed his eyes, not sure what was to come next.

The sensors in his hand felt her body heat rise slightly and her pulse quicken. Odd how it hadn't done that when the threat was there.

Did she… did she think he was the danger? Had the agents warning caused Darcy to change her mind? His heart twisted painfully and the acid in his stomach began to rise. Really, he couldn't blame her.

James was a bloody fucking idiot.

Layers of the blankets were being bundled into her arm and after a moment, she managed to wrestle enough of them out of the way so that she look down at him.

James gazed back into her stormy eyes, not understanding what he saw. He could no more move from the spot, than he could look away from her. Something was happening. Some… _thing_ was teasing the edges of his mind. Like he should be doing something.

"Hey."

The single word, spoken huskily and with uncertainty, brought him away from his thoughts and back to her oval face. She was teasing her bottom lip between her teeth and it was clear that she was making a decision. Would she tell him to go? Call the agents back?

"You hungry?"

He released the breath he'd been holding, feeling the panic that had been his constant companion since the 'fall' begin to dissipate. She wasn't going to turn him away. The relief was instant and he simply nodded, lacking the will to speak.

With much regret, he released his hold of her ankle to stand on unsteady feet. The room spun and the blood rushed past his ears, sounding much like a rushing river. A small shaking hand grabbed his, pulling him to the kitchen and he was thankful for the direction.

"Come on, big guy." He heard her mutter, the sound of rushing blood making it hard to concentrate. In fact, the fatigue from earlier was creeping back in now that he wasn't hiding between her legs.

The thought made his mind swim, the teasing memory dancing along its edges again. James rubbed his hands across his face, trying to wipe away the weariness. He should be asking her to contact Steve for him.

But then there was food. Piles and piles of things. Fresh fruits, cold meats, even a heated plate of chicken and rice. He ate without thought, filling the void that had become his stomach. All other things faded into the background as the pain of hunger was replaced by the discomfort of too much.

He didn't stop eating until Darcy moved quietly towards the shallow hallway. His eyes followed her, blanket still trailing behind, as a new sensation filled him. Gratitude? Affection?

Something like that…

The sound of rain reached his ears and he frowned. Water. A bathroom. Huh.

The food sat forgotten now, as her humming drifted through the room. He stood and followed the sounds, and he felt separate from himself.

Yellow light spilled from the room where warm mist swirled above his head. She was crouching over the tiled stall, eyes closed and hand held out into the water. The look… God, he didn't have a name for the look she had.

Peaceful, maybe. But more. She looked in her element. Her lips lifted as she felt his presence and he was sorry that he'd disturbed her.

"This shower is awesome." Darcy sighed, standing to look at him with confident eyes. His brows came together as he tried to understand her. Lavender and heat and a full stomach was making his need for sleep almost unbearable.

But then she waved him into the room, to which he dutifully followed. Hell, he was sure if she asked him to go to moon and back, he'd try.

 _What?_

"Relax." She grinned sheepishly, placing a large white towel in his hands. "Shower."

Clean. What would it feel like to be clean again? James knew he couldn't wash away everything, but the idea of not being covered in grime and sweat and blood was too promising.

"I'll grab a pair of jammies for you." She called over her shoulder as she retreated, leaving him to stand alone. "You're lucky I like to sleep in men's p.j.'s." She added under her breath. It took him a second to decode what she was saying and when he did, he felt more than grateful. Clean clothes was something he would have had to earn. Much like food. Much like trust.

Darcy Lewis didn't think he needed to _earn_ anything.

Automatic movements had him removing his garments layer by layer, letting them drop to the floor in a black and brown heap. He shed his weapons with no fear and the leather vest had to be practically peeled from his skin. That too, was tossed aside.

The water burned his skin in the most incredible way, falling from him to swirl at his feet and down the drain. It became dark and stained as the filth was cleaned from him. The simple bar of soap Darcy had left was used over and over until he felt his skin become raw and tender. Minutes ticked by as the water ran in rivets down his body.

The dark brown hair that had painfully scrubbed clean, covered his bent head in something like a tent. He stayed this way until the water became cold and he felt certain Darcy would be asleep.

It wasn't long before he was pulling on the warm flannel pants she had left for him, feeling his brain start to shut down. Another minute later he was shuffling into the only other room; her bedroom. A small part of his mind told him to go sleep on the damned couch but she was there and the bed looked so nice and if he was going to die, he'd rather do it lying next to his beautiful woman.

Before James lost consciousness, falling heavily into the bed, he noticed three things.

The first being that there was a wall of pillows separating the two sides.

The second being that Darcy had thought to make his side more comfortable than hers, adding extra blankets and another pillow.

The third being her face. The unmistakable heat that flashed in her eyes. He knew that look…

And then there was nothing. The sleep that took him then was the closest he'd been to death.


	5. Chapter 5

Dreams were something that James avoided as best as one could. He feared them because they held a sickening power over him. Most of his dreams made him doubt who he was, _what_ he was, and he had, in these last few weeks, awoken numerus times questioning what was even real.

Hydra used to implant nightmares into his brain, things to keep him on the leash and to not question. But whatever serum was running through his veins, kept trying to heal the damaged synapses and tissues. _Some_ of his dreams had been of a time long ago, of happy couples, and of a small blond kid with a serious defiant streak.

They had told him those were missions. That he had killed all of those people, but the more time he spent away from the 'wipe' chair, the more he remembered the truth.

Still, the nightmares were plenty during these last weeks of running because along with the memories of his time _before_ Hydra, he was also slowly remembering the horrible, terrible things he had done for them. The sins, the deaths… They chased him in his sleep, making it impossible to rest for any length of time.

This dream, however, was different. It was gentle, warmth and laughter and something more. It was Darcy Lewis. Lavender and coffee filled his senses as his mind brought up images of the woman who had so thoroughly shaken his mission.

She was grinning at him, crimson lips tilted and sea colored eyes shining bright. There was a carnival, and Steve was there, but he was taller. Stronger. His old friend was smiling with a look of knowing humor. He always seemed to do that when James was smitten with a girl.

They were dancing, swirling around in a wide circle, and he saw his metal hand was linked with her fingers, but instead of fear or disgust, she looked at him as if _he_ were her hero. Her face was close to his now and she was whispering his name and if just _leaned in_ he could kiss those perfect crimson lips.

But he knew this was a dream and it was ending because there was a loud piercing alarm that was ringing through his head _. Danger_ , it screamed, _Wake up._

He felt a feather light pressure against his temple and he awoke. The reaction to respond to the threat was instant, and in the matter of a second he had the enemy pinned down on their back, hand above their head in his metal grip.

And then the fog of sleep and panic cleared, leaving him to remember.

Rounded blue-green eyes were wide with alarm, those crimson lips no longer smiling.

There was a dark pit opening up inside of his stomach as he realized what he'd almost done to the only person to show him kindness. The horror and shame was overwhelming, and he shifted to get out of the bed, to remove himself from her presence, but she was faster. How, he didn't know, but she had her hands on his face, quicker than he could react.

Darcy Lewis, the woman with no fear, kissed him. _Hard._

Everything stopped instantly- his brain, his heart, his breath. Every one of his senses were consumed by her taste, her perfect mouth, her everything. And, god forgive him, he kissed her back. There was a part of him that knew exactly what to do and had _wanted_ to do this since their first meeting.

His hands cupped her face gently and he was only minutely aware that they were shaking, metal and skin. But she didn't care, oh no, Darcy was tasting him too, running her tongue along his teeth and further still. Her mouth slanted against his as their teeth and tongues and lips fought for more.

In these moments, he wasn't the Winter Soldier. He was just a man. Just James Buchanan Barnes, who was fiercely kissing a stunning woman named Darcy and nothing else mattered. There was no fatigue, no headache, and no hunger- at least not the same kind. What he felt now was raw and it was perfectly sinful and it was so utterly human.

Her hips shifted up, rubbing against the rigid erection that was currently nestled between her barely clad legs. But he hesitated because…

 _Shit_.

James knew he shouldn't be taking advantage of her like this. Darcy might be reckless, but he didn't think he could bear having _that_ mark against him, along with all of his other crimes.

He pulled back, not wanting to stop but knowing he had too. He had a _mission_ and shagging a passionate and gorgeous woman wasn't it.

God damn it, he really was a monster.

Shaking hands moved the dark hair from his eyes as he hovered above her, still unable to remove himself completely from the perfect way they fit. He could see her face clearly, red lips were swollen and wet, but grinning, and her eyes- damn it, those stormy sea colored eyes were half lidded and filled with desire and excitement.

"Mm'probably not going to let you stop now." She murmured, grinding herself against him again. It sent lightning bolts of lust shooting up into stomach, making him growl in response. There was something so utterly mindless and primal about her and the way she touched him and he felt his control slipping.

For a single second, he thought he could leave. Really, he tried to do the right thing but then she pulled her lower lip in-between her teeth and he knew she wouldn't have it. Fuck it all, he was ok with that.

"Mission accepted." Was his only reply, and while it might not have been even remotely romantic, she seemed to love it, grinning with that fire in her eyes. His hands were pulling off the glorious black fabric he had admired before, and the sensors in his hands were firing off information through his nerves.

Her body temperature would spike, if he touched her behind her knee, so he did this again watching her eyes flicker shut. His hands moves across her body, analyzing every breath, every moan, but then she's up and tearing off her shirt, gracing him with the most beautiful pair of rounded breasts he was sure ever existed. Her face was flushed, and her hands were roaming his bare chest as their mouths clashed with heady passion.

No time to slow down, not when their hearts were thundering and the threat of all of the unsaid things were hanging above their heads. He felt her need, the desire to have and to take, and he wanted to give her everything he could.

Smooth and confident fingers traced the edges of his scars, where metal met man, and he felt her own growl echo in his soul. Something dark and possessive settled into his stomach, but he couldn't think about it. In little time, she had stripped him of the borrowed flannel pants, allowing for his throbbing shaft to hover mere inches from the apex of her legs.

But he held back, the small voice of reason in the back of his mind whispering about morals, of right and wrong.

Or rather, he tried to for all of two seconds, _Jesus fucking Christ_ , because Darcy No-fear Lewis had grabbed hold of his swollen dick and run its head along the sweet wet lips that lay between her long pale legs.

Her knees were hitched up, giving him the most glorious view, as his body shook with erotic tremors. James took a deep breath and looked once more into those big sinful eyes before slowly pushing himself into her wet heat. Her hips lifted, allowing him to settle deeper as her moans and curses made him grit his teeth in search of control.

And for a moment, neither moved, both too lost in the feeling.

But James could feel everything, his cybernetic hand flat against her sternum and the sensors let him know he had to move. Instinct, or perhaps memory, had him grinding roughly against her pelvis, until her moans became desperate pleas. She begged for more. Harder.

 _Fuck._

His hips slammed into hers over and over, and she met him with full force, taking everything he had to give. There was a part of him that tried to go slow, to not be so rough, but she bit his shoulder and he couldn't think.

Her orgasms was sudden and violent, her inner walls fluttering around him, and this in turn caused his own climax. His whole body rippled in response, hips grinding slowly against her withering body, until they both collapsed back against the bed.

James wasn't sure how it happened, but they lay together after their bodies stopped shaking and their hearts quieted. And as the minutes passed, he fell asleep with his arms wrapped around the woman of his dreams, thinking nothing was wrong with the world.

He'd wake the next day and know that he was the world's biggest fool.


	6. Chapter 6

The fourth time James encountered Darcy Lewis was unlike anything he'd ever experienced thus far and while they hadn't actually separated since their last reunion, this was different. This was… more.

He watched as little dust motes drifted lazily in the small wedges of sunlight that peaked through the tall blinds. He had awoken a few minutes before when the warm body that curved so perfectly against his front started to stir. Slowly, through layers of sated sleep, Darcy began to rouse.

He'd be one hell of a liar if he didn't admit that this was the best wakeup he ever remembered having, not that his memory was in great shape. Still, everything he experienced last night, from the fear and panic to the warmth and passion, played through his mind over and over. Right or wrong, it didn't matter; it was all worth dying for and he'd gladly and willingly do it all over.

However, despite all of this, he wasn't a fool. James knew what he was, what he had done for those who kept him as a highly trained murderous _pet_. Darcy Lewis was far too good and too kind for anything he had to offer and James vowed that if he made it out of this alive, she wouldn't be seeing his face again. He'd see hers, of course; from the shadows, keeping an eye on the reckless young thing who bedded an assassin, but she'd not lay those beautiful sea blue eyes on him again.

If he made it out of this…

Darcy mumbled groggily, letting out content sighs. He could hear the smile in the sounds as she stretched lazily, reminding him of a sated cat. Her bottom pushed against his groin with the soft skin of her back flush against his chest making something akin to electricity spike hotly through his veins, though this was much less horrible than his previous run-ins with voltage. He'd have groaned loudly at the purely sinful way she felt, had it not been for the moment she realized she was not alone in the bed, coming fully out of her drowsy sleep.

Darcy's whole body froze, mid-stretch with her arm up as she lay on her side. The blanket had fallen away leaving her exposed to the early morning sunlight, but he refused to look at anything other than the three freckles on her shoulder blade.

An eternity ticked by as James held his breath, hoping that she would be _ok_ with him there. With everything they had done together in the secret cover of night. For the first time in his shoddy memory, James prayed that she'd ignore reason and just live in this moment for however long they had. Soon she'd know who he was, whether he told her or she finds out by external means. Soon she'd likely hate him and the thought nearly killed him.

The room was silent, all but for their heartbeats, both loud enough to hear.

She inhaled slowly, preparing to speak.

 _Please…._

"Good morning?" Darcy asked quietly. The uncertainty was second to the hope that laced the edges of her small voice. The release of his breath came out in a grunt, and if he hadn't been so tense he would have recognized it as an attempt to cover up his strangled laugh.

The muscles along his spine relaxed and the sound of heartbeats receded as James lay his forehead against her shoulder, trying to say without words how he appreciated her for everything she was. Without thought, his hand found its way to her hip, flesh on flesh, and he tried to memorize this feeling. Of kindness and warm touches. So many things he wanted to say, to do, but no knowledge as to how or even why.

A gurgle rumbled up from her stomach, a sound he _did_ know well, and it made him frown even as she laughed heartily.

James had to bite back another groan when Darcy shifted forward to grab something from off the nightstand, turning her body and coming back to lay her bare chest against his. The beautiful oval face was glowing with a soft kind of pink he couldn't recall ever seeing before; eyes gleaming with warmth and humor behind the black framed glasses she had grabbed. Her hungry gaze roamed his face, as if she too, were memorizing him in a way only lovers do.

Something in his chest seized for a moment at the thought of her want to see him. It was trivial and most likely insignificant, but to a man who was forced into shadows and darkness, never allowed to be seen by anyone other than his handlers… There were no words.

"Mm'hungry." Darcy mumbled and the smile that stretched across her face could only be considered as saucy. His mind raced with thoughts that he wasn't sure which was which. Her words spoke of hunger but her eyes were glowing with heat.

Worse was that it looked as if she were looking to him for direction, because she neither moved, nor spoke. He could take her again. Enter her and lose himself in the wet heat and her sounds and her warmth and trust. It could be so easy to stay here, hidden in the covers, fucking like neither one had a past or future. As if he wasn't a wanted criminal.

But he knew that it would do both of them little good. While the food he'd consumed last night had filled the gnawing void that had consumed his senses, he would need more nourishment to gather strength.

Instinct told him there was a battle coming, the very thing he wanted to avoid, but he'd been too careless last night. He'd tripped too many wires, wasn't quick enough. He didn't know when, or who it was that was going to attack, but he felt it in his bones.

His focus came back to the trusting little devil who was staring at him with wide and wondering eyes. Another gurgle bubbled up from her stomach, cementing his choice.

"Food then?" He asked cautiously, hating the way his voice was raw and grating from disuse. But her smile widened and she winked, making his heart flip.

"To the food!" She called gleefully, surprising him by jumping out of the pillow infested bed. Darcy held no shame as her naked body swayed from view, moving with slow grace. And he was undeniably not ashamed to watch with rapt attention.

Even after she'd closed the bathroom door across the hall, he sat in the bed and stared at the space where she had stood.

Not even in his wildest dreams, could he have created a woman like her.

James shook his head, knowing that the clock was ticking. The metal plates shifted as he stretched his arms and he could hear a soft buzzing sound from the internal mechanics. After ' _waking_ ' for the final time, he had hated this appendage with a quiet white hot fury; it representing his servitude the HYDRA.

But the way she had looked at it, with wonder and curiosity; and last night, with sinful heat, well... He might be inclined to not keep it so covered.

There was a new feeling now, a sort of impish childlike desire and James latched onto this. It was something so silly, but it felt like a blatant insult to HYDRA and everything they had tried to drill into him. So he left the bedroom to search for wiretaps in the kitchen with no shirt. Completely bare chested, metal and scars and all, feeling as if he were defying direct commands.

And hell, it felt _good_.

That and he knew Darcy would most likely not mind the sight, judging by her adamant perusal of his body the night before. The small smile that graced his lips felt strange and different but he liked it much more than the scowl that seems to be his natural state.

The kitchen was small but bugs could be hidden anywhere. Deftly and cautiously, he skimmed the edges of the smooth counter tops and along the underside of the dark paneled cabinets. The sensors built into the cybernetic fingers didn't find any outside or abnormal electrical currents, meaning that there were most likely no devices installed. No eyes or ears inside of Darcy's apartment. Strange.

"This is like when the date comes over and looks through your medicine cabinet to make sure you're not bananas." Darcy's laughing voice rang from the hallway entrance. He glanced up to see her leaning against the frame in small shorts and a matching top (stars and moons against a dark blue sky), and a soft smile framed by tumbling black curls. "You're not gonna find anything. They didn't bug my room. Jane made Thor promise 'On his Honor'. I like my privacy."

He nodded, letting his overlong hair cover his face. Something in her words made him pause, alarms buzzing in his brain, but she was walking towards him now with arms outstretched and all thoughts of the strange name she's said floated away. Cautiously, he took the offered hand with his flesh one, all of a sudden much more self-conscious about the sight of his scarred chest and silver arm.

"What are you hungry for?" She asked brightly and James could tell that she was trying to keep the lull of conversation from happening. She spoke while leading him to the table, much like she'd done the night before and exactly like then, he followed without thought, caught up in the simple awe of how she could be so kind and trusting to a man like him.

Falling into the closest chair, he grunted, still not used to using his voice, and shrugged. Honestly, he wasn't even sure what sorts of food he had eaten last night. Some things had tasted familiar but others had been completely new and strange, just like most things he'd experienced after ' _waking_ '.

"Ok, well what's your favorite food? We'll start there." Darcy offered slowly, turning her back to him to open the fridge.

"I… I don't know." He muttered honestly, the familiar taste of panic making his pulse quicken. He couldn't remember ever liking food, but there had to be something, right? Before he was a monster?

His hands, so different in creation, lay splayed before him. He had been a man once but those memories were far and few between. Images of a time long dead flashed behind his eyes, but not one was the answer to her question. Not one would make the concern he could feel from her, vanish.

James met her eyes and knew that she could see his panic, could see his honest fear.

"Do you know what you _don't_ like?" She muttered desperately, the alarm rising with every passing moment. Darcy was finally realizing that there was so much more wrong here than she'd previously thought and he couldn't do a damn thing to stop it.

"No." He breathed heavily, feeling the loss of control. He couldn't remember for her, couldn't give her the answer that would make this ok.

"Do you… what's the last thing you remember eating that you liked? Before yesterday and the other day. Before you came here." The crack in her voice was sharp and painful, signally the rise of fear. Her face was pale, no longer pink with pleasure and he could see the panic warring with optimism inside her heart.

James tried so hard to recall something. Anything that he'd might've eaten but there was only war and bombs and Steve and gunpowder and Captain America and _so much blood_.

But no _fucking_ food. He had to have eaten something, God damn it! Dread and bile burned his throat, so familiar now that he'd almost didn't recognize it.

"I don't remember eating. At all." He choked out, knowing that their time was gone. Truth was all he had left to give her, even as it burned him to do so.

"What do you remember?" She breathed.

There was shift in the air and a sense that something was building as Darcy knelt in front of him, taking both of his hands. For a second he couldn't move or breath, caught up in her gentle touch but then his body became rigid and the panic subsided because he _did_ remember other things. Good times. A carnival. A pretty girl and his best friend and the smell of the ocean mixed with popcorn.

There was his first memory.

Even if it was the very thing that would cause her hatred, James knew that he could give her honesty and certainty in _this_.

"My name is Sargent James Buchanan Barnes. My friends called me Bucky."

And it was as if the switch had finally been flicked because no sooner had he finished his sentence, Darcy had flung herself across the kitchen with surprising speed. He cringed at her fear but was caught off guard, as was the norm, by the anger that emanated from her.

She knew who he was finally…

The alarms inside his mind were screaming now but he had to calm her, make her understand he hadn't wanted to hurt her. James was on his feet and had his hands up, hoping that he didn't look like the deranged murderer she was sure to think he was. That he _actually_ was.

"I just wanted to find Steve." The words came out raw and pleading as he paced, unable to stop his cybernetic hand from clenching and unclenching. The ringing in his ears was so loud… But Darcy was hissing at him, her voice laced with hurt.

"But I'm not Steve!" She screeched, crossing her arms across her chest. The pale cheeks were gone, replaced with a red stain, bright with anger.

"I know. But you were…" He paused, trying desperately to find the right words even though he didn't know why he needed her to understand. She wasn't ever going to see him again…

But the very thought made his gut twist and something deep inside his chest crack.

"You were so honest. And kind. And I don't know…" He rubbed his face with his hands, trying to scrub away the shame and panic he felt. Ever since that damned first meeting out by the track, James had known getting involved with her was a terrible idea but he hadn't planned on it being so… complicated.

"Yea well." Darcy grumbled darkly, shifting from foot to foot. Her quiet voice, no longer sharp with anger, made him watch her with trained precision. It was as if he could see the gears working in her mind, shifting through all of this new information, and not for the first time, he was astounded by her quick thoughts and acceptance.

The ringing alarms in his mind stopped as she turned to face him calmly. Wild black curls framed her face, cheeks pink and eyes wary, but for the love of god, there was no hatred. The air stilled in his lungs, as if this were the only moment that mattered, and it was.

"Alright, James." She sighed, hiking one hip up and pointing a shacking finger his way. "I feel like a grade A failure at keeping my friends safe, and you better believe that those Avenging dorks are _my friends_. So please," she paused and he refused to blink even as her words sunk in, hitting him square in the chest. " _Please_ tell me you are not here to hurt anyone."

"I didn't come here to hurt a single soul." He replied and for a moment he thought things might actually be ok. "I just wanted to-," But he couldn't finish because there were people at her front door, not four feet from where Darcy was standing.

Ten maybe twelve Agents and… **_Shit!_**

"Go! Go! Go!" the call echoed and James allowed every bit of HYDRA training to guide him.

They were there, black suits busting down her door in a fiery blast, casting shards of frame all over. In an instant, he was shielding Darcy keeping the wooden shrapnel from slashing her exposed skin.

The sound of her scream was background to the noise of chaos. They were all coming at him, no weapons, but there were metal cuffs, buzzing from electrical currents, and there were _too many._ He couldn't keep her safe if they all came at once.

He threw one agent off, twisting his arm out to smash another's helmet to pieces. Too fast, not enough energy, too many…

It was when he turned to tell Darcy to run that he saw a large man, black suited like the rest, grab her arm and violently thrust her to the ground.

Red was a color James was familiar with and from that moment on it was all he saw. A certain kind of primal rage took over, no training, no special moves. Just violence.

He hauled the man off of his woman and threw him against a wall, intending to cause an absurd amount of pain.

But Steve was there, peeling him away from the man who'd hurt Darcy. Red still bleed into his sight, making him fight because fighting was all he knew. His muscles reacted, sensors screaming information and data and his reaction time was slowed but he still fought.

The winged man tried to get close enough to cuff him but James managed a powerful kick to the dark man's stomach. Another opponent approached cautiously in red, white, and blue, and a part of his brain was trying to tell him something but he had to _fight._

 _Fight kill fight…_

 _No no no… It's Steve. He's my friend!_

"Don't hurt him!" He heard Darcy's scream and turned to see the redheaded assassin holding tight to her as she struggled against the strong hands. His thoughts turned to protecting her, ignoring the calls from his old friend. Steve would understand, he had to keep her safe!

James been prepared to take out the trained woman, watching as she released Darcy to defend herself.

However, he hadn't been prepared for the large black suited man from before sneaking up behind his girl and smashing her head against the wall while the others were distracted.

The sound that was torn from his throat as her body tumbled to the floor, limp and lifeless, was nothing short of terrifying and by all accounts was that of a mad gone mad.

No one stopped him, not right away at least.

That was the last thing James remembered about that day.


End file.
